Perfect Harmony by Markus Mars

released October 26, 2018

Being classically trained, I grew up practicing violin with sheet music, learning piece after piece and performing them as best I could in front of an audience. I can't remember a single concert or recital I wasn't filled with stage fright from head to toe. Stepping on stages, small or large, and feeling pairs of eyes pinning me down to almost unbearable paralyzation, it took me great Überwindung to make it through the concertos and etudes.

Feeling judged from start to finish became part of the game, and only when I was playing with an orchestra or band, becoming one with the many, did I feel somewhat laid back.

Transitioning from classical music to contemporary music, jazz, rock, hard rock, pop, funk, fusion, and electronic music in my 20s, joining bands and DJs for partially improvised shows, I started enjoying playing music more and more. I soon realized that jazz is as rules-heavy as classical music, and it took me another five years to realize that squeezing a cube into a round hole only works if the cube is smaller than the diameter of said hole. In my case, it felt like squeezing a Star Trek Borg cube through the ear of a needle. Was I not smart enough to sit down and get those rules into my head? Or was I already saturated with rules and ready to un-rule or at least partially deconstruct rules to make space for something new to emerge?

Why did I enter the flow state whenever I played music freely, losing myself in sounds for hours and days on end, while at the same time, it often felt like a burden whenever I had to sit down and practice jazz theory or classical theory?

One thing that stood out was this warm, bright feeling of freedom whenever I fully let go. Don't get me wrong; I'm grateful for an in-depth classical training and music theory foundation. But in hindsight, I'd have enjoyed the journey more had I been allowed to play more often than study hard.

And then there was this one day when I was asked to play a last-minute solo gig at a small cafe. I said yes, and after hanging up, I thought, wait a minute, what just happened? Why did I agree to play a solo gig if I have A) never done this before and B) don't have a solo repertoire? After that phone call, the first stop was the local music store, where I bought a loop station and a small amp. I headed home, fired up that thing, and spent a few hours familiarizing myself with the basics before heading to the gig.

At this stage, I have performed over 2,000 gigs in over 30 countries and collaborated with numerous renowned artists, bands, DJs, and orchestras worldwide. However, I couldn’t recall ever feeling this nervous. Sitting in the car and driving up the coast, I remember listening to Andrew Bird's Echolocations album. And to this day, it has been one of the most influential inspirations for my solo live-looping journey.

When I arrived at the cafe, I wired up my minimalist setup, did a quick soundcheck, took some time to step outside, and then went back inside and started my gig. The moment I played the first note, my nervousness completely disappeared, and I entered a state of pure flow. I had nothing planned, no idea what would happen, no clue if it would be well-received. However, I couldn't care less while playing music. I felt like playing live for the first time, not performing live. I felt my entire musical career disappear into a black hole, only to reappear on the other side as one bright white ball of light.

Soon after this gig, I contacted Perfect Harmony in Hilo, Hawai'i, to book a gig there. When the date was confirmed, a thought popped up: would what had happened at that first gig happen again? Or was this a one-time thing, never to be repeated? Welcome back, anxiety. Welcome back, uncertainty.

I fell in love with this hideaway from noisy downtown Hilo and remember enjoying gallons of delicious teas while reading and simply being in the space. How would the perception of the space change once I've filled it with the vibrations of my creations? Will it even be creations, or will it be a co-creation of animate beings and inanimate objects? Was there even such a thing as inanimate objects, now that we know everything is vibration?

The day arrived. I headed to the tea room to set up my gear and did a quick soundcheck. Only two people were in the room when I started my concert. I felt relieved and worried at the same time. Fewer eye pairs were staring at me: relief. Only two people were interested in what I had to offer: worry.

I should mention that I normally play with in-ear headphones and my eyes closed. This allows me to submerge myself in the sounds fully and decouple from shared reality during creation. That said, when I opened my eyes again after my first piece, the room had filled up. I later named this track Perfect Opening. It felt as if people entered the space without knowing what was about to happen, curious to witness the process of music coming into existence—which became the theme of my creations. As one listener later told me, it wasn’t a concert but an experience.

Throughout the evening, I explored my entire musical journey, going back to the bare beginnings of pizzicato only at age five to layering massive amounts of orchestral waves, allowing space for baroque soli, transitioning into funky bow chops, and flowing into ethereal soundscapes of vast intergalactic sound spaces, warmth, love, and joy. Whenever I opened my eyes, things slightly changed, people transitioning almost in sync with the music from sitting to standing, from stillness to movement, from reading to drawing, from sipping tea to meditating with eyes closed. It was a beautiful evening of unforgettable inspiration and ignited the fire of live creation, which I carry to this moment and am most grateful for.

It turned out that both my earlier thoughts came true: It had happened again, and I completely submerged myself in playfulness. And: It was a one-time thing, never to be repeated, as each note, sound, and noise were created in the moment, never to be repeated the same way.

Impermanence at its finest.

You are now invited to dive deep into the album Live at Perfect Harmony. If you have reflections, thoughts, or feedback you would like to share, feel free to leave a comment below. You might discover new elements, aspects, and feelings each time you listen to this album.

I see my creations as audible artwork. Enjoy!